


Grim Grinning Ghosts Come Out to Socialize

by aimmyarrowshigh, spibsy (lucy_and_ramona)



Series: First Street 'verse [3]
Category: One Direction (Band), Union J (Band), X Factor (UK) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - First Street, F/M, Gen, Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 01:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimmyarrowshigh/pseuds/aimmyarrowshigh, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucy_and_ramona/pseuds/spibsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to This Town's Been All Over You and All I Want for Christmas is You (and You, and You...). Everyone has thought all along that George and Harry might be a little magic. And it might be true. A fic with, maybe, a love potion in it. Also puns and couples costumes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grim Grinning Ghosts Come Out to Socialize

First Street's United Direction Bakery and Cafe looks deserted, a decrepit, dark mouldering ruin frosted in cobwebs and broken shards of light from tiny, flickering bulbs. The cakes left in the glass display case ooze green slime, the cupcakes festooned with mice and spiders. A cloud of bats hovers near the ceiling.

"It's perfect," sighs George, nuzzling into Harry's shoulder.

"Beautifully wretched," Harry agrees with his fingers splayed at George's waist. "I think we've outdone ourselves this year, haven't we?"

George pokes the nose of a rubber bat that's dangling just above his head. "I hope so. Doing worse than last year would be embarrassing."

"Even JJ and Niall beat us last year," says Harry, sulking. "And they weren't even trying. This year's far superior. Everybody'd better appreciate it."

George kisses Harry's cheek, then wrinkles his nose. "You taste like greasepaint."

"Who's fault is that?" Harry gives George a poke in the ribs. "What time is it? Is everything ready? Everything's spooky?"

"I'm not sure whether my coffee is spooky," George says, "But it is ready." He slumps, languishing, his wide tail almost knocking Harry down. "I don't even want to work today! I'm too excited!"

"But just imagine the looks on peoples' faces when they come in for their morning coffee!" Harry dodges another whack from George's tail. "Does it count as work if it's spooky?"

"You'd have to ask a businessghost," George says thoughtfully, almost tripping over Harry's giant clawed feet. "I just want to go home and set up for the party. Everyone will be so surprised!"

Harry is already in mourning for all the cups that are going to be knocked over by the time the day is over. It's well worth it, though. For the spookiness.

He clomps over to the door and flips the closed sign over to read 'Open! Come In... For a SCARE!'

He's sure it will terrify anybody brave enough to enter. Maybe not Ella. Ella's very hard to scare.

Harry frowns and turns to look over his shoulder, best that he can, at George. He's stood behind his espresso machine, but Harry can still see his spikes protruding over the top. "Do you think we've made it too scary for Piccolo?"

"He's a tough little thing," George insists. "We've definitely made it too scary for Josh."

Harry clomps back to his pastry case to check the Skull And Bones Sausage Rolls for the morning crowd. They look appropriately broken, but still tempting, a smear of redcurrant blood glazed over the tops. "Pigeons are too scary for Josh."

"That's true," George agrees, his tail knocking into everything as he makes his way to his machines, all new formulas and names just for today.

He checks his containers for Haunted Hazelnut Croquant and Creepy Cracker Crunch and Creepy Salted Caramel. And then he eats some.

"Hey!" Harry smacks his tail. "Don't fill up on that or you won't have room later for candy."

George's chocolate brown eyes are extra chocolaty, as are his lips, when he looks up like a startled little gremlin under all his green facepaint. "This is already candy."

Harry ponders that for a second. "I guess that's true." He beams at George. "Carry on, then."

George beams at Harry with caramel sticking his molars together. "I'm too excited to stop!"

Harry's face softens under his orange greasepaint. "Here, come eat some real food so you don't get sick. I'll let you snack while we wait for customers."

"You mean Ella."

"I do mean Ella."

 **001.**  
Before she even opens the door to Harry and George's place, Ella can tell they've pulled out all the stops. She takes a deep breath, and when she pushes the door open, it creaks ominously. How did they manage that in one night? It didn't creak yesterday...

Piccolo yelps in a tiny noise and snuffles, tucked into her red gingham-lined basket. "It's okay," Ella coos, petting the tufty hair at the top of his head with two fingers. "It's just Harry and George being silly."

When they walk into the bakery, George is gnawing on a skull, pink hammy brains crackling through the pastry crust.

"You scared Piccolo," Ella says, giving him a pat between the ears. He's not much bigger than he was when she found him, still able to be carried around and he fits in her arms when she holds him. She bats a cobweb from her hair. "How did you have time to do all of this? I was just here last night!"

"We're magic," Harry says, and the earnesty in his eyes is more disconcerting than the fact that he's holding what appears to be a head.

"Of course you are." Ella shakes her head, carefully resting the basket on the edge of the counter. "What am I having today, darlings?"

Harry starts giggling before he even speaks, and Ella settles in for the puns.

" _Well_ ," Harry draws out. "There's our Witch's Cold Brew, that one's pretty excellent. What do you think, Georgie?"

George turns pink and starts giggling. Their dark, curly heads -- surrounded in dinosaur mask styrofoam though they may be -- tuck together, and Ella rolls her eyes.

"Just say it."

"It's cold as a witch's brew," George snickers.

Ella sighs. "What about in the line of hot as a cup of tea, as it's chilly outside and you two are ridiculous?"

"We have... Candy-Dandy-Corn?" offers Harry. "That's nice, tastes just like candy corn. It's really good with one of our Snack-O-Lanterns."

"I don't really fancy something that tastes of candy corn at seven in the morning."

Piccolo hips his assent, tiny paws scrabbling at the side of his wicker basket. Ella lifts him out and holds him, looking every inch like a strawberry-blonde Dorothy and her miniature Toto.

"I have some very tasty Zom-Beef Bones for Piccolo," Harry says, taking out some dog biscuits from under the counter. He holds them out on a flat hand and Piccolo nuzzles around his fingers to sniff things out before taking a nibble.

"I can make you a Cranberry Boo-ibos tea," George offers. "It's got rooibos and cranberry and a little hint of witch's potion."

"Oh, that sounds lovely," Ella says, perking up. "As long as this potion won't poison me."

George looks aghast. "Of course it won't!" he exclaims. "And don't think you're getting out of here without one of our miniature Vampumpkin Pies."

Ella sighs. "Anyone who invented a pun-based holiday without predicting you two being born was an irresponsible menace."

"Don't you mean irres-PUN-sible?" Harry asks.

"No." Ella narrows her eyes at him. "I do not."

While George is fixing her tea, his hands a bit hampered by claws, and Harry pets Piccolo with one hand while writing her IOU slip with the other, Ella looks around at the decorations.

"If you've had time to do all this in a few hours," she asks, trepidacious, "What's our flat going to look like tonight for the party?"

They both look up at her, and Ella nearly takes a step back. There's something very sinister about the grins on their faces.

"You'll love it," they say in one voice. Like the twins from The Shining. Except dressed as dinosaurs, and taller.

"Oh, no," Ella mutters. "Will we even be able to get in the door?"

"Of course." George sounds affronted as he hands her a cup. The sweetly sharp scent of cranberry is cut through with mellow almond and the distinct saffron smell of rooibos. For all that George is ridiculous, he's very good at his job.

"Thanks, Georgie." Ella gifts him with a peck on the cheek, wrinkling her nose. "Your face tastes like greasepaint," she informs.

"So does Harry's!" George says. "The rest of him doesn't."

Ella snorts, gathering Piccolo's basket on her arms. "Thanks, but I really didn't need to know that." She motions with her cup. "I'll be seeing you and your lot later?"

"Of course," they say in stereo again. They've become a bit too adept at it. It's like they share one brain. "At the haunted flat."

"That doesn't have a ring to it," George says, disappointed.

"No, not at all," Harry agrees.

Ella snorts, taking Piccolo's little biscuits and her own tea and a bag of snacks to share with Liam, and leaves, the door creaking with a deathly groan behind her. Leaves crunch under her ruby slippers as she walks the rest of the way to the music shop through the swirling ghost's mist.

"We have weird friends," she announces as the door to the music shop closes behind her. They've hung black and orange streamers, but nowhere near the amount of decoration that Harry and George have.

Liam, an axe through his head, looks out from around the doorframe to their little office. His eyeball is falling out. "What's that?"

Ella startles, the basket jerking. "I was only gone for half an hour," she says, taking deep breaths. "How did you get all that on in half an hour?"

Liam blinks his remaining eye. "It's Halloween."

"Well, yes, I could tell that from all the decorations in the bakery. Either that or Harry and George are even odder than usual." She settles Piccolo's basket on the counter and lifts him out, giving him a kiss on his tiny head. "Did I miss anything?"

Liam shakes his head, and the axe wobbles. "Just a few more pickups of the sheet music to 'Grim Grinning Ghosts.'"

"I have a feeling there'll be a few more of those throughout the day." Ella helps little Piccolo down onto the floor where he promptly scampers off to have a nap in a trumpet.

Liam smiles at Ella and tugs the end of one of her plaits. "This is cute. What are you?"

Ella gasps, indignant. "I'm Dorothy, you uncultured swine. From Wizard of Oz. See, my shoes?" Ella shows them off, sparkly and red.

"Very sparkly," Liam observes. "I haven't seen the Wizard of Oz. I've seen Wicked, that's in Oz. There's no Dorothy, though."

"No. I went as Elphaba one year, though, and it was a real pain getting all the green face paint off." Ella frowns as she remembers. "Not as hard to be Dorothy."

"We have green greasepaint," Liam offers. He kisses Ella's forehead and goes back to the office to stir his own bagged Lipton tea. George hardly speaks to Liam. "I saw it at the flat this morning."

"Er, I think Harry and George used it."

"For weird things?"

"Yes, but not their usual weird things," Ella says. "They're dinosaurs today."

"Oh, alright, then." Liam's eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. "As long as it's not for weird things."

The front doors bang open and Piccolo yelps: it echoes up the trumpet's bell and sounds very strange indeed.

"Liam!" Louis yowls. "Come here please, I need an unzipping!"

Liam sighs. "Phrases I wish I never had to hear," he murmurs, but he rushes to Louis' aid nonetheless, Ella notices.

 **002.**  
Louis is trapped in this godforsaken carrot suit, and he simply cannot wear something so ridiculous. Not if Josh is dressed as a giant blue rabbit. Unacceptable.

"It's awful," he grumbles to Liam, lovely Liam who always listens to his problems. "I barely got out of there before he saw me. Imagine if we'd ended up with matching costumes? He'd never let me hear the end of it."

"I think it'd be nice," Liam says placidly, tugging at the zipper where it's caught around Louis' bum. "Harry and George have matching costumes, Ella says. And I know Zayn and Jaymi do."

"Well that's different, they're all disgusting and in love and terrible," Louis says, frowning. "Josh and I can't have matching costumes."

Liam pauses in his wrestling match with the carrot zipper. "Why not?"

Louis nearly jerks out his seams with how hard he whips his head around. "Because we're not a couple, Liam," he says slowly. "If we were being deliberately matchy-matchy, it'd be different. We can't match if we're not a _couple_."

"Oh." Liam sounds bored, and the zipper gets unstuck. Under the costume, Louis' pants are black with white skeletons on: very festive. "Are you still not?"

"And what exactly do you mean by that, Liam Payne?" Louis' eyes narrow into slits.

Even on this, Halloween, nothing is scarier than the sight of Louis glaring down at you.

"Nothing," Liam says. "Just that I like this costume."

"I picked a carrot because I thought it would be funny and unique," Louis says primly. "It turns out to be neither, if someone like _Josh_ can think to dress as a rabbit."

"Right, of course." Liam gathers the carrot costume and offers it to Louis. "Uh, do you need... clothes to get back to your place?"

Louis clutches the costume to his chest. "No."

Glowering, Louis marches back across the street in his pants. He can feel Ella and Liam watching him through their shop window; there are a few curious eyes through the morning fog heading towards him from the direction of ridiculous Harry and ridiculouser George's bakery, like zombies seeking through the abyss for a snack.

Whatever. They can stare. Louis looks good in his pants. Maybe he doesn't even need a costume; he'll just wear his holiday pants.

That way Josh can't possibly match him. Josh hasn't got skeleton pants. Louis would bet so much money that Josh hasn't got skeleton pants. He's not fun enough.

Stodgy Josh. Stodgy Josh in his pants, being all Josh-y in his pants. Terrible.

Nobody ever wants to think about Josh in his pants, least of all Louis.

No, sir.

Indeed, the thought practically runs from Louis' head as he traipses back into the store, de-carroted and determined.

When he walks back into the shop, a giant hamburger rolls across the floor, grunting.

"Jesus!" Louis yelps, jumping out of the way. "What's wrong with you?"

"Momentum!" Josh groans. "I fell trying to zip up."

"Trying to zip up what?" Louis glares. "I thought you were a rabbit. Which is a totally uninspired costume, by the way."

"Well, I couldn't be a rabbit if you were a carrot," Josh moans, still rolling across the floor. He's headed straight for the mannequins in their luxurious sequined vampire and ghoul costumes, so Louis hops over and wedges a boot under Josh's buns.

Bun.

Burger bun.

Costume.

Nobody thinks about Josh's buns.

Especially not Louis.

"Well, I'm not being a carrot anymore. So you can be a rabbit." Louis sniffs. "I'm very selfless."

"I don't want to be a rabbit," Josh pants. "I just want to not be dizzy."

"Breathe properly, then!" Louis helps Josh stay upright, leaning against him so that he doesn't go tumbling down again. "Hold on and I'll get it for you."

"No, I'm fine," Josh says. "I'll be a burger. Piccolo will like me."

"Piccolo likes everyone. Name one person Piccolo doesn't like." Louis huffs, but at least now he knows there's no way for him to accidentally match Josh.

"Well, he likes burgers," Josh grumps. "Now go get dressed before you scare off the customers. There's another costume for you in the back if you don't want to wear your carrot."

Louis stands up, one eyebrow raised, and goes to the back.

He comes storming out a moment later and bangs out the front door again, still only wearing his pants, hell-bound for Harry's.

Josh sighs. He can never win, with that one.

Louis bats aside a curtain of spiderweb and stomps into the bakery. It is warm on his frozen skin, and the air smells like haunted vanilla. "Harry!"

A triceratops head pops out of the kitchen window. "What's wrong? Why are you naked?"

"I have pants on!" Louis throws himself into a chair, arms across his chest. This is the most he's sulked in one day in something like two months.

He's missed it, if he's honest. He does like the way Harry dotes when he's got a good sulk on.

"Why don't you have a costume on?" Harry sounds utterly betrayed.

"They got skeletons on them," Louis says defensively. "And I don't have a costume, because I wore a carrot suit and Josh showed up as a bloody rabbit. And then I took the carrot off, and he was wearing a burger, and he'd got me a hot dog costume! We can't be a burger and a hot dog!"

"Why not?" asks George, popping his stupid curly head up behind the counter. "I think it's cute, you'd match."

Louis looks from the triceratops fixing him a sausage roll to the stegosaurus manning the espresso bar. Unimpressive, the lot of them. "That's the problem," he says slowly, because George is slow. "We'd match."

"Harry and I match." George's bottom lip starts to go pouty. God help them all. "I think it's charming."

"And fun," Harry adds. "And Jaymi and Zayn match, even though they're boring and just wore normal clothes and some vampire marks on their lovebites."

"Why do people keep saying that?" Louis demands to know. "Of course you two match. Of course Jaymi and Zayn match. You're _things_. Coupley, together things. Josh and I are definitely _not_ a coupley together thing."

George and Harry look at each other. George's tail knocks a stack of cardboard take-away cups off the counter as he busies himself with some nougatine topping for the 'I'll Nou-GET You My Pretty And Your Hot Chocolate, Too.'

"Shut up," Louis grunts. "I can hear how you're looking at me and you can just can it, Styles."

"I was just going to give you a Deviled Ham Tart," Harry says, and he pouts. Louis hates to make Harry pout.

"I'll never say no to one of those," Louis replies, begrudging. "As long as you keep your knowing looks to yourselves."

Harry sets the little handpie down in front of Louis. There are little horns and a barbed tail iced onto the plate in ketchup and brown sauce, because Harry is _ridiculous_.

"What would be so bad about matching to Josh?" Harry asks carefully. "You're a thing. You're partners."

"Not partners like you and George," Louis insists. "Just business partners. Most of the time I can't even stand him."

George's tail knocks down some eco-clamshells.

"Oi!" Louis barks. "I can't! He's the worst! He's always brooding and pouting and making his lips do the thing."

"What thing would that be?" Harry asks. "I thought you liked the thing he does with his lips, anyway. You told me once you thought it was sultry."

Louis brandishes his fork like a weapon. Dripping in red such as it is, it's very threatening.

Harry frowns, then 'oh's. "Secretly told me," he mutters. "Sworn to secrecy."

"I already knew," George pipes from behind the counter. He dollops a rosette of whipped cream on a mug and hands it to a customer who looks very perturbed by Louis' near-nudity, so she holds her small child tightly by the hand.

"Enjoy!" he says cheerfully, sighing once she's out the door. "Too bad she's not coming back, I know just the right brew that would've kept her stress levels down."

"She might come back," Harry says hopefully.

"Louis is naked and angry," George answers.

"Well, yeah, but that'd make some people stay longer," Harry points out. "Like Josh. It'd make Josh stay longer."

"It would not!" Louis growls. "If you need to keep someone's stress down there, Georgie, why don't you make me something for that?"

George and Harry lock eyes.

"Okay!" George says, his voice full of cheer. He ducks into the back so quickly that Louis blinks in surprise.

Harry smiles winsomely at Louis and rests his chin on the tops of his big dino-claws. "Hi."

"What have you done?" asks Louis. He's not fooled for a second, glowering. "I'm keeping my pants on."

"I know," Harry says happily. He keeps grinning worryingly, so Louis just takes a slow bite of ham tart and watches as one of the rubber bats over their heads wiggles on the end of its string.

"This isn't a people tart, is it?" 

"No!" Harry sounds insulted. "That's morbid."

"It's Halloween. Everything's morbid. You've got pastries that look like brains." Louis rolls his eyes.

"They're charlotte royales!" Harry sounds affronted. "That pistachio bavarois took me ages, you know!"

"And they look glorious," Louis reassures. "I just don't think Halloween of all days is the day to be offended by morbid things."

Harry looks disenchanted, and Louis feels badly for that, so he kisses Harry's forehead. "Cheer up, Harold. It isn't your fault that Josh is a dingbat."

"Hey!" The door creaks open behind them. "I'm not a dingbat."

Josh is now wearing a dalmation costume.

"You're a massive dingbat." Louis scowls at him. "What are you wearing?"

"Well, you hated the burger costume," says Josh. "And so did I, because I kept falling over. I had to roll across the street and have Ella unzip me, and Piccolo bit me in the bun!"

"And a very nice bun it is, too." George saunters out with two cups in hand, giving one to Josh and one to Louis. "I think you'll like those."

The teas inside are fragrant and deep purple, dotted through with bobs of... something and swirled with cream still settling in white and lavender blossoms. It smells familiar, but Louis can't place it.

"What is that?" he asks, inhaling again. It's soothing, whatever it is, and he can feel his shoulders relaxing.

"Tea," says George. "You'll like it."

That's all George ever says. And Louis does always like what George makes him. It's just usually not purple.

He shrugs. "Okay. Thanks." He toasts the air and takes a swallow.

It's good. A bit fruity, a little sour, but plenty sweet.

"Really good." He gives George a smile. It's not that he doesn't like George -- he loves George, just like he loves their whole weird family. The thing is that, well, George is Josh's more than Louis'.

"Yeah, little Georgie," says Josh, toasting with a raised teacup. "The texture's a bit weird and the flavor's kinda robust for my taste, but it's good."

George's grin is just as offputting as it was when he'd come out from the back of the kitchen. "I know. They compliment each other well."

Louis blinks. Between Harry's little beaming smile and the brains in the pastry case and the fact that it's cold outside and he isn't wearing trousers, he doesn't quite know what's happening.

"I'm gonna go back," he says, taking another sip from his tea. He thinks it's tea, at least; it tastes like tea. "There's inventory that needs taking."

George and Harry just smile at him from within their dinosaur helmets.

"Er, I'll walk with you," Josh offers. "Fend off the questions about why you're wandering the streets nude."

"I'm wearing pants!" exclaims Louis, looking down at them. "They're festive and everything, I don't know why everyone keeps talking like I've been frolicking naked through the street!"

"More naked than people usually frolic through the streets," Josh points out. "At least for October."

The door of the bakery creaks heavily behind them.

"I'll frolick naked through the streets if I like," Louis protests with no regard for whoever's just come in.

"Please don't," says Zayn, patting Louis' shoulder on his way up to Harry's counter.

"You can't stop me, Malik!" Louis cries before Josh is dragging him out the door with a hasty farewell and a 'see you after work'.

Zayn shakes his head. His quiff brushes a rubber bat, and he ducks. "You two've got, uh. Into the spirit, then."

They both just smile at him, and then Harry bustles off into the back, no doubt with something specific in mind.

"Is Jaymi feeling better?" George asks, tamping down espresso for their coffees.

Zayn's smile is George's favorite of the Zayn-smiles, fond and absentminded. "Yeah, yeah, loads. That soup really made a difference, thanks for that." He reaches over and ruffles George's horns.

George giggles. "Well, I hated seeing Jaymi so sad and sniffly. Missed his singing."

"I think we all did." Zayn leans on the counter. "What've you got for me today? Nothing with cobwebs, thanks."

"I have an 'Calling You Chicken! Tikka Masala Pie,'" Harry offers. "I thought you'd like it."

"Sounds awesome, yeah." Zayn quirks a smile at him, then George. "Nice tail."

"Thank you," say both Harry and George, their tails knocking into each other.

Zayn accepts his foil-wrapped packages in a neatly creased bag, tucking that under his arm so he can carry the drinks. "Thanks, man. We'll see you later, right? You guys did the flat up, didn't you?"

Harry just giggles, and George joins in a minute later. There's a smear of chocolate across the facepaint on George's cheeks.

"Ominous." Zayn gives them a wink and a wave. "Looking forward to it, then."

 **003.**  
Jaymi is a red-nosed, sniffly little vampire when Zayn gets back across the street. The record store is uncharacteristically quiet without his big voice ringing out.

"I thought you were feeling better?" Zayn says sympathetically, giving him a kiss on the head. "Brought you a George remedy."

"I am feeling better," Jaymi whispers, hoarse. "That doesn't mean I feel well."

"Well enough to have this?" Zayn offers him the hot drink. "Soothing for the throat, I'm sure."

Jaymi nods miserably and takes the cup of hot, golden honey tea.

"I can sort through your pile if you don't feel up to it." Zayn's brow is furrowed. "You probably shouldn't have come in today anyway. Not if you're sick."

"Had to," Jaymi grunts. "Hooligans come out on Halloween. Don't want you to get robbed alone."

"Oh, so you're my big protector, then?" Zayn settles in his chair and rolls it over next to Jaymi.

Jaymi coughs, then nods. Zayn kisses the side of Jaymi's head.

"Eat your breakfast," he instructs gently. "Maybe you'll feel better once you've got some food in you."

Jaymi opens his own parcel to find an eco-clamshell of soft, perfectly cooked oatmeal redolent with pumpkin pie spices, sliced bananas and dates, and more honey. Harry is a big believer in the health benefits of raw fruit and raw honey.

"Harry's a godsend." He breathes in the scent of the oatmeal and lets it out in a sneeze.

Zayn surreptitiously shunts his own food off to the side, away from the angle of trajectory.

"Sorry." Jaymi does look miserable, all red in the nose and circles underneath his eyes. He was up all the night before coughing and sniffling.

"It's alright." Zayn was awake alongside him. "You can go home, you know. I'll really be alright here."

"No, I can't leave you with all the work." Jaymi frowns, and pulls a box of tissues from under the counter. "I've got tissues. Got tea. Got breakfast."

Zayn sighs and rubs Jaymi's back. "If you do want to go home and take a nap, just tell me. But er, beware, 'cause Harry and George have got loose in the flat."

"Oh, well, I wouldn't want to get to see it before the rest of you." Jaymi smiles as well as he can. "Thanks, love."

Zayn keeps one hand on Jaymi for comfort as he digs into his pie with the other hand. Even when trying to be cutesy and creepy all at once, Harry's baking is top-notch.

The door opening means a customer entering, which means it's probably a little unprofessional to be eating, but Zayn will murder anyone who says that to Jaymi.

"I don't know what's happening," Josh greets them. He sounds thoroughly flustered, and he's only wearing pants.

Zayn blinks. "Do you and Louis know you're wearing the same thing today?"

"No, we're not!" Josh says sharply. "My pants have Jack O'Lanterns on them, and they are purple. Louis is very insistent that we are not dressed the same, but he has stolen every costume in the shop so now I have nothing to wear."

"Why's he care so much about whether you're dressed the same or not?" Jaymi asks, his voice hoarse. "I think it's cute."

"I don't know!" Josh throws his hands in the air. "First he was upset that we looked _not even alike_ and now he's upset that we don't look alike enough! I don't know what's happened!"

"Have you tried asking him?" Zayn suggests.

"He won't say," Josh says. "He just keeps railing about George being a witch, but George isn't even a witch; he's a dinosaur!"

"Well, Louis doesn't make sense on the best of days," Zayn advises. "I guess just see if Harry and George'll let you go up to the flat to change? They're being weird and planning things, though, so I wouldn't bet on it."

"I tried that," Josh says desperately. "I went to the bakery to use the back staircase, and George got all hangdog eyes and told me to _go back to Louis and change his mind_. Like I'm a wizard. But Louis stole my wizard cape!"

"Try JJ and Niall's," Jaymi instructs. "They've always got clothes just hanging around for when they don't get to yours."

Josh scrubs a hand over his face. "I'll have to go quickly. Louis' been following me around for the last half hour. It's very strange."

Zayn's pretty sure he knows why, and he bites his lip against a smile. "I'm sure he'll get over it. Halloween, probably. Makes everyone go a bit odd."

Jaymi blows his nose, then speaks clearly for the first time all day. "Just send Harry or Niall over to babysit him for a bit. That'll tire him out."

"I might have to. We're not getting any work done." Josh sighs. "Anyway, thought I'd let you guys know what was going on in case you knew."

"All I know is that George and Harry smile like jackals and fed you some sort of weird tea," Zayn says. "And I know you're not wearing trousers and you're in my shop, and that's against the rules."

"Well, go tell it to Louis." Josh sighs. "Thanks, man. See you later at home."

He leans across the counter and tweaks Jaymi's cheek. "Feel better, Jaymijams."

Jaymi sniffs at him, which is pretty much a thank you.

When Josh leaves, Jaymi rests his head on Zayn's shoulder.

"What did George and Harry do to Louis?"

"No idea," says Zayn, "But they're definitely witches."

 **004.**  
It's much too cold out to just be in boxers, but it's not like Louis gave him much of a choice. Josh grumbles as he makes his way down the street to JJ- and Niall's shop, the bell above the door dinging as he enters.

"Please have mercy!"

Josh looks around. "Jayj?"

Niall's head pops up from under the counter. His glasses are askew.

"You're naked," he notices. "You're not supposed to be naked in the shop, I think. That's in the rules somewhere." He shrugs, motioning Josh in.

"Who is it?" JJ's voice comes from under the counter.

"Just Josh," Niall assures him. "He needs trousers."

"Louis is being a dick," Josh explains. "Any trousers'll do, please."

JJ and Niall consult in muffled voices under the register.

"They're on that back shelf," Niall says, pointing when he pops up again. "We have bats and stripes left."

"Thank you," Josh says with palpable relief, not even bothering to ask what they're doing before he scampers into the back to become more clothed.

The pawn shop is a disaster area: every inch of every aisle is covered in glitter and refuse, bits of broken streamers and inside-out rubber Collegeville masks.

"Good lord," says Josh once he's properly trouser-ed. "Did a bomb go off in here?"

"Yes," pipes JJ.

"A bomb called neighborhood children," adds Niall.

"Oh, man, sorry." Josh winces. "Need any help cleaning up? I don't think I'm wanted in my shop."

"No, we're hiding," Niall says. "But if you wouldn't mind maybe turning our sign over to 'Closed' when you go? Just for a bit."

"I can do that," Josh agrees. "Try and man the hatches until tonight, yeah? You'll be able to get through today."

"But then we have to go home to a _Harry and George party_ ," Niall groans, and there's a clattering sound behind the register as both he and JJ collapse.

"True," Josh allows. "I'll leave you be, then. See you later!"

When Josh leaves, there's a minute of waiting outside the door just to make sure that JJ and Niall are alright. He watches through the crowded window as they creep out from under the counter and belly-crawl across the floor.

With a frown, he begins making his way back up the street. He doesn't really want to have to deal with any more of Louis' bizarreness, but he doesn't have many other options. George told him to go make nice, anyway, and George is usually right.

Although maybe not about that purple tea.

Josh feels a little strange.

 **005.**  
Louis looks up with a forbidding glare when Josh returns, thankfully not in any sort of costume. "How dare you show your face here," he says, hands on his hips. "After what you've done."

"What have I done now?" Josh asks, struggling into a too-big horsie jumper.

"What haven't you done?" Louis replies. "And what kind of tea did you get George to give me because it was not normal tea."

"He gave it to me, too," Josh reminds Louis. Louis still hasn't put clothing on.

He's pretty.

"Put some trousers or something on, will you?" Josh grumbles, making himself look away.

"Then we'd look alike again!" Louis glowers at him, his hands on his hips. It is _very_ cold whenever the door opens.

"We'd just _both be wearing trousers_."

"And that's what you want, is it?" Louis points at him, accusatory. "You secretly want us to have matching couple-costumes!"

Josh sits down on a mannequin that Louis had knocked over earlier in a pique of panic. "Maybe I do. I don't know."

Louis' finger drops. He looks genuinely surprised, the anger sliding from his face. "... What?"

"Why would it be so bad to have costumes that coordinate?" Josh asks. "We're all about coordination! Look at our store! It's arranged by color!"

"But it's a whole different thing when it's _people_!" Louis waves his arms about. "It's like -- like Harry and George, or Jaymi and Zayn! People who are _dating_ have matching costumes, Joshua!"

"Liam and Ella are dating, and they don't," Josh points out.

"That's because Liam is slow and Ella is cute and has a dog." Louis grumbles and crosses his arms. He should really find a shirt.

"And anyway," he continues, "It's like, people who are dating can wear costumes that don't match, but people who wear costumes that match are dating."

"That's so dumb," Josh says. "Are we twelve now?"

"You're dumb," mutters Louis.

"We're twelve now." Josh sighs.

"I just," Louis sits on the countertop. It's cold without trousers on. "I don't want to--everyone we know lives in such a bubble, work together, live together, date each other. I'd feel like a goldfish."

"Okay." Josh edges his way closer. Louis is aware of every movement. "Are you saying, like, do you want to move out? Or."

"No, I like my flat," Louis says, as though it isn't shared by eight other people.

"I don't get what you're saying, then," Josh admits. That's a big deal for Josh, admitting he doesn't know something.

"I don't like the idea of feeling trapped," Louis says. "But I also don't want to stop living and working with you. Or being around you. And I think couples costumes are adorable, dammit."

"I just like costumes that match," Josh says plaintively. "We don't have to be a couple to wear them, if you don't want. I just like matching."

Louis looks down at his fingernails. "I don't like to match for no reason."

"Then we can match for a reason!" Josh throws up his hands. "Nobody's trying to trap you. Nobody's trying to force you to be something or someone you're not. But you need to stop treating me like I've done something wrong when it's your own hangups that are the issue."

Louis' face twists into a terrible, Halloween-worthy scowl.

"We aren't all George and Harry," Josh reminds him, "And we don't have to act like them. I couldn't be that cute if I _tried_."

"I just don't want it to mean something unless it's going to mean something," Louis mutters, his head tipping down.

Louis looks through his fringe as Josh stomps off to their back room. There's a clattering sound and a _shush_ , and then Josh reappears, dressed as a saltshaker.

He's holding out pepper.

"Put on your damned costume."

Louis shuts up and puts on his costume.

 **006.**  
After the shops all close, lights dying down across the row even as the streetlights come up, Louis still hides in the shop for half an hour, wearing his Pepper costume, before Josh can convince him to come back to the flat for Harry and George's party.

"Everyone is going to think things!" Louis is going at a snail's pace, dragging his feet like that'll cause them to never reach the flat.

"So what if they do?" Josh asks. "They're literally your best friends."

"But!" Louis sputters. He can't actually contradict that and Josh knows it. "The wonder twins are going to be all _smiley_ about it."

"It's Halloween," Josh reminds him, pushing Louis up the stairs with both hands. "They're smiley anyway. Halloween is like their Christmas. Except actual Christmas, which is... also like their Christmas."

Louis heaves a grand sigh. "Don't let anyone laugh at me," he warns. "Or I'll strip down to my pants again and you won't have anybody to match with."

"Okay," Josh sighs. The door to their flat has been splashed with red blood and glow-in-the-dark dayglo green alien plasma. A smiling ghost lurks on the doorknob, beckoning _Welcome To All Boys And Ghouls!_

"What is going to lie beyond this door?" says Louis, looking at it with trepidation. "What if they've hired a real ghost?"

"If you don't open the door, you'll be a real ghost," mutters Josh.

"You're a prick and I don't like you." Louis nudges his hip against Josh's before he opens the door.

"Yeah, yeah." Josh rolls his eyes and taps Louis' bum, well-padded by pepper shaker, on his way through the door.

Into a candy and creeper fairyland.

"Hiya!" George pops up from nowhere, still bright orange and beaming widely. "You made it!"

His tail nearly misses knocking over a bubbling cauldron of electric pink punch.

"We live here!" chorus Josh and Louis.

" _It's starting_ ," Louis hisses to Josh, eyes wide.

" _It started a long time ago, calm down and have some punch_." Josh's return stare is narrow-eyed and challenging.

George looks like he might float away. "Harry! It worked!"

"What worked?" asks Louis, his fringe whipping around his face. "George? What worked?"

George goes pink under his orange facepaint. "Nothing. I just had a good hunch. Oh, look, Piccolo is so cute!" He points into the air and scampers away.

"What worked?" Louis turns his demands to Harry, not so far away that he can pretend not to hear.

Harry is wiggling his hips, dancing to whatever Zayn and Jaymi have put on the speakers. "George and I had a hunch."

"And what hunch was that?" Louis is trying to look threatening, but... he's dressed as a giant pepper shaker.

"That today would be the day," Harry and George say together, blithely. George has indeed seemingly plucked Piccolo from the air somewhere. He has a tiny Sherlock Holmes costume on that was definitely not there this morning.

"The day for what?" asks Josh. It's good that he's just as confused as Louis is.

George holds Piccolo up in front of his face and moves tiny paws as though it's Piccolo delivering the words. "For you two to realize you're in love!"

There is suddenly no sound in the room. Josh is staring at George. Louis is staring at George. Nothing makes sense. Everything kind of makes sense.

"Oh, pshaw," Louis pshaws. "Pshaw. That's -- Piccolo, you're so silly."

"You've come as a matching salt and pepper set and you still haven't figured it out?" George -- _Piccolo_ sounds outraged.

"It doesn't mean we're in _love_ ," Josh says. "Stop talking to us as a small dog."

"No," says George as Piccolo. "You're responding better."

"You've gone actually crazy," Louis snaps, glaring at George, though he has to peer around the dog to do it.

"Hey," says Harry, waltzing past in his triceratops suit. He thrusts frothing skulls filled with punch into Louis' and Josh's hands. "It's Halloween, everyone's a bit crazy."

Josh drinks his punch automatically, still a little bit in shock. It's good, fizzy and fruity with a hint of alcohol.

George doesn't make cocktails very often, but whenever he does, they're lovely.

Of course.

Because everything George does is lovely, from coffee to tea to cocktails to Harry and costumes and Piccolo and decorations.

"Our friends are really lovely," muses Josh, taking another drink. "And I think maybe they just want everybody to be as happy as they are."

Piccolo runs across the floor, having escaped George's dino-clutches, his tiny magnifying glass clinking against the hardwood. Even he seems happy. 

In the corner, Ella is laughing with Jaymi, her head tossed back, Jaymi's nose still pink, but his eyes bright.

Zayn and Liam are chatting on the sofa, covered in green glitter and fake cobwebs, which must be the product of either George or Harry.

JJ and Niall seem to have sufficiently recovered from their trauma, if the way they're tearing through the rest of Harry's skull-shaped ham pies and great wedge-shaped slices of green charlotte royale are any indication.

Everybody's happy. And, to be honest, Josh is kind of tired of not letting himself be happy, too.

He tries to ignore the creeping purple sense that George and Harry are watching him and Louis, even as they sway together around their big dinosaur bellies.

"Will you dance with me?" he asks Louis, setting his cup down on the nearest flat surface.

"I only know the catch-a-fish-and-reel-him-in dance, so far as partners go," Louis warns.

"Wouldn't expect anything more." Josh smiles, offering his hand anyway.

The most frightening thing to happen on First Street on Halloween occurs just then, under the sparkling orange fairylights and smoke of the fog machine Harry and George had installed: 

Louis smiles at Josh.

"Yeah, I guess," he replies. "Okay." He takes Josh's hand and squeezes it. Just a little.

It's difficult to find somewhere to dance where they won't be barrelled over by Harry and George's dino tails, sneezed on by Jaymi, or accidentally trod on Piccolo.

They manage it, though, much closer than they tend to be when there aren't punches or tackles involved, simply staying close together and moving to the beat of the music.

There isn't much to feel through both a salt costume and a pepper suit, but. It's enough.

"Hey," says Josh when one song ends and fades into another, the beat similar enough that it's not much of a disruption.

"Yo," says Louis. "Thanks for not stepping on my feet."

"I tried my best. It's a hard life, as a salt shaker." Josh smiles just a little. "Thanks for not stepping on mine."

"I am graceful as a gazelle." Louis sniffs, but he's still smiling at Josh. "I would never."

"You would and you have." Josh shakes his head, but it's hard to stop looking at Louis' smile. It's never been trained on Josh for this long before.

"Yeah, well, that was before somehow a purple potion and a talking small dog made us fall in love."

"Mysterious ways or whatever." Josh looks down at his salt shaker costume, then at Louis' pepper costume, then shakes his head. "I can't believe this is what our lives are."

"I will never wear clothes that match your terrible letterman's jackets or camouflage patterns," Louis warns.

"Well, we'll just see about that," Josh counters. "Deal, if I never have to wear jeans in a color other than denim."

Louis sighs. "You're missing out. But okay."

"Shake on it?" Josh offers a hand.

Louis grasps his hand, and then his grin turns wicked. "I can do better."

Josh is expecting it when their lips meet, but he's still somehow not expecting to like it so much.

Louis' lips still taste like purple hibiscus tea.

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